Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(87)

Her threat hardly brought him to his knees. Instead, he sneered at her. “What could a nobody like you do to destroy someone like me?”

“I could tell the truth.”

He looked bored.

“That’s really all I have to do, you know. Oh, I don’t possess your lofty media contacts, but I’m well-acquainted with Colin Gutteridge at the Lower Tilbey Standard, and I taught Evelyn Lumley’s daughter. Evelyn is the home and garden reporter for Lower Tilbey’s radio station. She’s a magician with roses, so she has a very loyal group of listeners. I admit my contacts are humble ones, but even a small stone causes ripples, and both of them are quite loyal to me. They’ll be more than happy to report my side of the story.”

“No one will believe them,” he scoffed. “You can’t prove a thing.”

“Perhaps not. But the speculation will be messy.”

“Do you really think your unimportant little friends could hurt someone in my position?”

“I fight with what I have,” she said simply.

She had the satisfaction of seeing that she had his attention. Perhaps her small threat would make him think twice.

He shot his hand toward the door. “Get out of my sight. And don’t expect any decent schools in England to hire you because I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen.”

Did he really have so much power? She doubted it, but she also knew he could make it impossible for her to secure the type of position she was qualified to hold.

She realized she was trembling, and she knew she had to get away. But she couldn’t leave until she said what she needed to. “You are a small-minded, pompous man, Hugh. But even worse, you have a wicked heart. St. Gert’s deserves better.”

Francesca stared through the living room window at the gleaming stretch of Florida beach. It was beautiful, but she missed Wynette. She returned her attention to the disagreeable telephone conversation she was having with her husband. “Yes, darling, I’ve heard what they’re saying on the news. But I’m sure Kenny has a rational explanation.”

She wasn’t sure of any such thing, and she winced as her normally soft-spoken husband adamantly voiced his displeasure.

Finally, he quieted enough for her to speak. “I’ll admit the news clip is a bit damning, but the Duke of Beddington’s such a rotter. Really, Dallie, if you knew him, you’d simply detest him. I’m certain he had it coming.”

She lifted the receiver a few inches from her ear as he erupted again. He was calling her from Augusta, where the final round of the Masters was being played even as they spoke. Reporters had been stalking him all morning, and guilt nipped at her. This was her fault for sending Emma to Kenny. Beddington had obviously gone to Wynette because of her, and something, just as obviously, had gone drastically wrong.

Ever since Francesca had seen the footage of the fight in the Roustabout parking lot on the morning news, she’d been trying to reach Kenny, but she kept getting a busy signal. She’d hoped Emma would have a positive influence on him, but, instead, she seemed to have landed him in deeper trouble. None of this would have happened if Francesca hadn’t decided to try a little offbeat matchmaking, as her husband was now reminding her.

The other line buzzed. Dallie was still raving, and she slipped him on hold.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Teddy, darling! Thank goodness you called. I have your father on the other line, and he’s being completely disagreeable. Hold on.”

She clicked back to Dallie, who seemed to be threatening her with a rather interesting sexual variation if she ever tried matchmaking again. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Teddy’s calling.”

Dallie immediately quieted, as she’d known he would. Of the many blessings in her life, witnessing the love between Dallie and his son was surely the greatest.

She took advantage of his brief silence to end the conversation. “Hurry home tonight, my darling.” And then, to punish him for being so cranky, she dropped her voice into the husky purr she’d perfected before her sixteenth birthday. “I bought the most exquisite massage oil yesterday. Almond with a faint overlay of sandalwood. Imported, of course, and outrageously expensive. But I insist on using only the very best . . . on every part of you . . . that will touch . . . certain parts of me.”

There was a long, eloquent pause, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded just the slightest bit hoarse. “Francie, I do believe I’m going to catch an earlier flight.”

Francesca smiled as she gently disconnected him. As if there’d ever been any doubt.

“I’m going to kill him!” Torie exclaimed, over the voice announcing final boarding of Flight 2842 to London’s Heathrow. “I really will, Lady E. The minute Kenny resurfaces, I’ll do it. Tell her, Dex. Tell her I always mean what I say.”

Instead of replying, Dex slipped his arm around Emma’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “I’m sure once Kenny’s had a chance to think things over, he’ll be in touch.”

Emma thought how difficult that would be since she was getting ready to fly across the ocean. She was also homeless and jobless. “It’s all right. After what happened last night, I don’t expect him to speak to me again. Really.” But she’d hoped he would. She’d hoped he’d forgive her.

She fumbled in her purse for her boarding pass. She’d postponed getting on the plane as long as she could, just as she’d postponed leaving the ranch when it finally became evident that Kenny wasn’t going to return, but she couldn’t stall any longer.